


His

by lanyrainicorn



Series: Secrets [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Canon, F/M, POV Third Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Smut, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5930797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanyrainicorn/pseuds/lanyrainicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren has been kidnapped and Jean helps Mikasa cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His

The only sound in the room was the clicking of her heels – boots on hard wood – as she paced its length. Her chin and mouth were buried deep in her crimson scarf and she nibbled at her nails and cuticles, leaving tiny speckles of reddened skin and occasionally drawing blood. Jean and Armin sat together on the bed in the infirmary, quietly watching her walk back and forth, sending knowing, sympathetic glances to one another every few minutes.

“Mikasa,” Armin started as he raised himself off the bed. She halted her stride long enough to shoot him a perturbed look, then continued walking. That didn’t stop him. “Mikasa, Eren will be fine. Commander Erwin is organizing a rescue strategy right now and –” He was cut off by the sound of the door opening. Connie stuck his head through and beckoned to Armin.

“Commander Erwin wants to see you.” Armin sighed. He presented Jean a thoughtful look. ‘ _Do something. Calm her down.’_ it said. He nodded and Armin followed Connie out the door, closing it tight behind them. For a moment Jean just sat there, his eyes following Mikasa’s every movement. She was so passionate about Eren; everything she did, she did for him. Jean wasn’t sure what he could do to placate her. She was a bulwark, stone-faced and always composed. Except when it came to Eren. Eren made her emotional, pushing up sentiments that she had long buried, hidden away from anyone but him. And sometimes Jean.

He stood up and made his way toward her. His voice was calm. “Mika.” Her step faltered and she turned away from him, towards the window. She wandered over to it and pushed aside the curtains, staring thoughtfully into the distance. He only called her that when they were alone, which was becoming increasingly rare in light of current events. The survivors of the 104th had all become good friends, and they were comfortable with each other now, often joking and picking on one another in their downtime. Jean, Armin, and Mikasa were especially close. The first time Jean called her ‘Mika’, she had actually smiled.

“What if he’s dead, Jean?” she said out of nowhere. He wasn’t sure if he’d heard her right at first. She never talked like this. “What if they killed him and they’re gone and we never find him or find out why they did this or…” her words trailed off. She placed her hands on the windowsill as her chest heaved.

“Mika,” he repeated. “You know Eren. That brat’s too damn hardheaded to let them get away with shit like this. I’m sure he’s fine. Erwin will figure something out. He even called Armin in there, so you know whatever crazy ass plan they come up with will work. We’re going to get Eren back. He’s going to come back to you…” This time it was Jean’s voice that floundered.

He slowly closed the remaining distance between them. She turned around to face him, lifting a hand to smooth over his cheek, as if to search his face for some sign of strength, the strength that was usually hers. His arms wound around her waist immediately, instinctively pulling her closer to him and his chin came to rest on top of her head as she nuzzled her face into his warm chest. Jean was suddenly thankful for the several extra centimeters of height he’d obtained since they first met. “We’re going to bring him back to you.”

Then they were kissing and they knew it was wrong and misguided but they didn’t care because in that moment she had him, he had her, they had _each other_ , and that was all they needed. Jean ran his hands up and down her body and came to rest at her waist, snaking them gently around her to knit them together at the small of her back. She shivered a little at how his fingers sent slight tickles up her sides and stomach. He tugged her backwards a little and they moved in unison until his legs hit the bed, then flopped back gently, bringing her down with him. He rolled the two of them over, pinning her underneath him as he kissed his way from her lips down her neck to suck softly at her porcelain skin. He pulled away, glancing toward the door for a moment, contemplating whether he should get up to lock it. Turning back to Mikasa and seeing the look in her eyes was all the answer he needed. _Screw it,_ he silently agreed with her, _someone would know what we were doing even if I locked the door._

Clothes came off, button by button, zipper by zipper, shirts and pants and boots piling haphazardly on the floor. They were left in just their underclothes, nothing for them to hide from each other, save for their emotions. Jean resumed his assault of his mouth on her, trailing a balmy path of kisses down to the cleavage that was so nicely pushed up by her chest bindings. Reaching around, he unhooked the series of clasps that held it together and heard her let out a sigh of relief as her picturesque breasts were released from their prison. Jean threw the garment to the side and took mound in each hand, squeezing and kneading them as he sucked at her collarbone.

He directed the route of his kissing downward, dispersing them randomly as his mouth made its way to her nipple. He watched her face as he took the rosy nub in his mouth, alternately biting, sucking, and swirling his tongue and he smiled internally when he saw how it made her writhe a bit underneath him. No matter how many times they did this, each time he made her squirm with pleasure was better than the last. It intoxicated him, sent him soaring into the heavens with gratification and jubilation. His tongue darted around rapidly and she bucked her hips into his. A smile crossed his lips and he raised up, resting his weight on his elbow.

His breath caught in his throat when he looked down at the girl beneath him. She was so beautiful, so perfect, yet always seemed so melancholy. To him she was fucking ethereal, a goddess in body and mind, too good for this world and all the filthy, terrible things in it. Mikasa deserved so much more than she got, she deserved the stars and the moon and the heavens. She deserved to be worshipped, constantly and unwaveringly. God, how loved her with abandon, in spite of and perhaps partly _because of_ her total dedication to Eren.

Jean wished with everything in him that this, what they were doing, what was about to happen, was for him, but he knew better. This was for Eren. Mikasa took all the love she had for Eren, all the love he pushed aside and took for granted, and she poured it shamelessly into Jean and they both knew it. But neither of them cared because they both needed this, this sad, silent little agreement that they sometimes acknowledged. It didn’t happen _that_ often, but it happened frequently enough that it had eventually become routine.

~

The first time was after a particularly bad fight with Eren. She knew how he was, so defensive and hostile about _every little thing_ but sometimes she kept pushing him anyway, for his benefit, she thought. She had just wanted him to finish his meal. Knowing how taxing his titan abilities could be on his body, she just wanted him to keep his strength up. As usual, he flew completely off the handle and yelled at her to stop treating him like a child, saying that he could take care of himself, the usual things. She sat completely still and quiet the rest of dinner, head resting in her palm, staring off into shadows on the walls. It pissed Jean off to no end, but he’d learned that it was better to just ignore Eren when he was being a complete and total jackass, because nothing Jean could say would make the situation any better. So he bit his tongue and walked out of the dining hall, slamming the door behind him.

He was barely awake when he heard a little knock at the door of the boys’ barracks. He’d rubbed his bleary eyes and paused, listening for another sound to make sure he’d heard right. _Knock, knock, knock._ Yeah, he’d definitely heard right. He scanned the room and after confirming that no one else was awake, he slinked quietly out of bed and to the door. He opened it, not expecting to see the mysterious, perpetually somber raven haired beauty that he’d come to desire so very much. “Mikasa? What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”

Putting a finger to her lips to shush him, she dragged him wordlessly out of his room and toward the dilapidated warehouse near the stables. And there they connected with each other like no one had connected with them before. For a short while they became one, fueling each other’s sorrowful needs, each filling the other’s emptiness the only way they could think of. It was sloppy and messy, clumsy, awkward and confusing, everything else that only your first time could be but Jean cherished that memory like a child his favorite toy. Afterward they just laid tangled in each other limbs, sweaty and drained, breathing hard and crying, Jean petting Mikasa and weeping _there there’s_ and _it’s okay’s_ into her hair.

~

Jean grazed his nails down Mikasa’s ribs, eliciting a shudder and quiet gasp from behind her glossy lips. He skimmed his tongue over the pink lines that formed and dipped it quickly into her bellybutton, transitioning to sweet kisses around her lower torso. Taking the soft cotton of her panties between his teeth, he lifted his head a bit and sniggered. They were plain, black with no ornamentation. So simple, so Mikasa. Using the tips of his fingers, he began to slowly drag them down her firm thighs. He nudged her, looking for confirmation, for _permission_ , and though her eyes were closed, she nodded frantically. With one more swift movement the covering was gone, exposing her completely. She shivered a tad at the new exposure.

Jean ran his fingers through the scarce patch of hair there, a few inches below her navel. He lowered his face back down to her, taking her in with all of his sense. His sinuses whirled with the scent of her delicacy, natural like warm summer air and overly sweet like honey. His lips pressed into hers, savoring the taste of this woman, the woman he so desperately craved and wanted and needed. She was bitter and tangy and delicious like the yogurt they’d eaten for breakfast. Tongue scouring the entire length of her, he took a finger and gently teased her opening before gently burying it to his knuckle.

Mikasa was rarely vocal, so Jean had to evaluate his performance, what actions he needed to take, based solely on her movements, how her body reacted to the forces he enacted upon it. She rolled her hips and Jean sheathed another finger into her warmth. Cautious thrusts caused her to buck her hips into his fingers, asking for more. Cautious became gentle became moderate became vigorous as his tongue glided over her tiny pink knot in rapid movements.

“ _Jean,_ ” she buzzed, gripping his hair. He reluctantly pulled his head from its happy place between her thighs, his golden orbs rising to meet her stone grey ones. She blinked slowly a few times and he understood all too well. Plucking his fingers from inside her, he crawled up to capture her mouth with his. The quiet calm that had come to rest over them was broken and now there was nothing was reckless passion. Jean’s hands palmed Mikasa’s bottom as their mouths and tongues fought a war for dominance, teeth clinking every so often, biting and nibbling hastily, as if one of them was about to disappear and they only had seconds left with each other. Jean was ever the gentleman, always making sure Mikasa was taken care of to the fullest extent, because this was all for her, after all, but he felt like he was going to burst if he didn’t get some relief soon.

“Mika…” He managed to pull away from her nipping teeth, and he breathed into her ear softly. “Are you ready?” They drove their bodies together hurriedly, grinding against each other, the friction agonizing them both. She only nodded, prompting him to _get on with it already_. Boxers were slipped hurriedly off his legs and he placed a leg on each side of her hips. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She furrowed her brows at him. _Oops._ “Well there’s no going back now,” she snapped, purely out of sexual frustration. When she saw the wounded look on his face, she abated. “God, yes, Jean, I’m sure. How many times do we have to do this before you stop asking each time? _I want this_. I’m absolutely positive.” Her expression softened and a smile teased at her lips. “Don’t make me beg.” At that he felt himself twitch down below. He seized her bottom lip in his teeth, biting hard and making her squeak. Mikasa wasn’t the type to get down on her knees and ask anyone for anything. Except once. For Jean.

~

Jean had lost count of how many times they'd met like this. It happened a few times a week now. He had been lying in bed, listening intently, waiting for the series of little knocks which had become their signal, wondering if she'd come that night. He was starting to have second thoughts about this whole arrangement, stomach churning guilt creeping into his gut whenever they said their goodbyes for the night and returned to their bunks. As much as he longed for Mikasa’s touch every second of everyday, he knew this was wrong. As much as he fucking despised Eren sometimes, he couldn’t help but imagine his reaction if he were to find out about his and Mikasa’s little trysts. And thinking about it… it made Jean _sad._ What the hell was that about?

 _Knock, knock, knock._ Jean’s breath hitched and his heart fluttered upon hearing the sound. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and quietly snuck to the door. When he was safely on the other side, the black haired girl laced her fingers with his. He pulled them up to his mouth and kissed them gently. Her face remained devoid of emotion, but Jean could sense the sadness in her bones. The sadness that was always there, deep down in her core. If only he could fuck away the sadness during one of their rendezvous, then maybe she could be okay, maybe even happy. Maybe she could be… _his._

“Mika,” he whispered. A smile briefly washed over her lips before fading back to indifference. “I think we need to stop this. God, what would Eren think if he knew? We actually get along now and—” He regretted even mentioning Eren’s name. But Mikasa looked thoughtful.

“I don’t _care_ if Eren knows,” she practically spit. “If he knew it wouldn’t change anything, anyway.” Jean knew every word that had just slid past her lips was a lie, but he just sighed, accepting that this was now something… something they both wished, desired, demanded. Mikasa must’ve mistaken the sigh for disagreement, because then she dropped to her knees and said, “Jean. Don’t make me beg.” Jean would’ve protested if she hadn’t looked so beautiful and perfect and fucking _celestial_ with his cock between her pouty lips.

~

He grabbed a thigh in each of his hands, running his palms across her milky white skin. Swirling patterns along her hips, down her pubic bone, he teased her lovingly. A low groan emanated from her mouth and brought a smile to Jean’s lips. “Jean, please… I’m not going to ask again. I can’t wait any longer…” She was getting serious and he loved it. Though he longed to make her plead for him, languish her just a little, he knew that what they were doing was enough suffering for the both of them, for a lifetime. He gripped himself at his base, prodding at Mikasa’s heat, and pushed the tip in, eliciting a grumbly growl from his obsidian haired beauty.

 _His._ In that moment, that very instant, he was _hers_ and she was _his_ and no one else’s; no one else mattered, no one else existed, they were the only two in the world. No Armin, no Eren, no Levi or Erwin or Connie. No titans. Only Jean and Mikasa, together, one entity, glued together, stuck fast to one another, held in place by anger and sadness and regret and _love_ hate _life_ death _happiness_ bitterness.

And suddenly he was all the way in, completely engulfed in white hot swelter, frantic, searching deeper and deeper for something, something he hoped he could find rooted within Mikasa. There was no tenderness left in either of them, just raw, primal want, no… _need_. The girl beneath him, the one he’d grown to love and trust with his life and his heart, wriggled about as it became harder and harder for them both to control themselves. Long nails left jagged stripes across Jean’s back, clawing harder with each thrust, each pushing them closer to the edge.

Mikasa wrapped her legs around Jean, and her heels dug into the small of his back, shoving hard with each of Jean’s movements, matching his speed and driving him deeper into her each time. It hurt but it felt incredible. It made her want to scream, to cry out in frustration and pleasure and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She discovered she had been holding her breath, and let it out in a loud gasp. They rocked together violently, neither ceasing, both afraid to let go but terrified to hold on. That familiar warmth crept into their bellies, like a spring ready to fly when released. They were both so desperate, desperate to unwind the string that held them so tightly, the one that was ready to snap at any second. They wanted to surrender.

So they did. Simultaneously they broke their chains, anything holding them back disappeared and they engulfed one another. Bright, burning fervor coursed through their veins, heads thrown back in bliss, panting, gasping, _screaming_ each other’s names, sobs of pleasure and pain and sadness and guilt and exhilaration wracking their bodies. They clutched each other tightly, as if they were afraid the other would float away if they loosened their grip, as they rode out the spasms devastating their bodies. Slowly they descended together, hovering somewhere between elation and anguish until they eventually crashed back to earth, soaked in sweat and shame and fear.

Jean rolled to the side, hitting the bed with a soft _thud._ He grabbed Mikasa and pulled her into him, yanking the covers to envelop them both. She nestled her head back into his chest, breathing in the scent of sweat and grass and campfire smoke that was the essence of Jean. Lacing their fingers together, they willed their breathing to steady, heaving chests finally evening out into a shallow, rhythmic rise and fall. Eyes closed, the hazy afterglow overtook them, settling them both into a cloudy state of lethargy. Mikasa was the first to fade, a single word trickling from her lips as sleep befell her.

“Eren…”

And just as easily and sadly as that name slipped from her mouth, a single tear rolled down Jean’s cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is interested in following me, my tumblr is lanyrainicorn.tumblr.com
> 
> I post anime and cartoon and video game things. Nsfw stuff, too, sometimes. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
